


Little Lies

by Astral_Romances



Series: Little Lies [1]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings (Movies), The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Cultural Differences, Embedded Images, F/F, F/M, Family Issues, Forbidden Love, Friendship, Gender or Sex Swap, Period-Typical Racism, Period-Typical Sexism, Romance, Secret Identity, Slow Burn, Slow To Update, Some Humor, Thranduil's A+ Parenting, tauriel and legg are besties and not in love, text and images
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-13
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:47:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28037145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Astral_Romances/pseuds/Astral_Romances
Summary: Gimli, son of Glóin joined the quest to destroy the Ring. But here's the thing; Glóin doesn't have any sons. He has a daughter.He allowed her to go on one condition: None of her companions can know that she's no man, because it strictly goes against Dwarven culture. Easy enough, right? No.Cultural differences, fallouts, racism and an unexpected crush are trying to ruin it.
Relationships: Aragorn | Estel/Arwen Undómiel, Gimli (Son of Glóin)/Legolas Greenleaf, Kíli (Tolkien)/Tauriel (Hobbit Movies), Legolas Greenleaf & Tauriel, Legolas Greenleaf & Thranduil
Series: Little Lies [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2053728
Comments: 6
Kudos: 43





	1. Kick-off

**Author's Note:**

> Just to clarify, Gimli and Legolas are both written as female in this story. For the rest this story will mainly follow the plot of the books/movies, with some differences if I feel like it. The latter parts of the story will take place AFTER the events.  
> Please enjoy!

‘You have my sword.’ The man said.

‘And my bow!’ The Elf said with determination.

‘And my axe.’ Gimli said before she could think. The Elf looked at her with annoyance plain on that weirdly fair face. Gimli paid the display of racism no mind.

Then an incident occurred in which three Halflings showed up out of nowhere and decided to join as well. A man said something about not just walking into Mordor, people were arguing. Something about the end of the earth was shouted, Sauron had a tower or something with a big eye on it. Gimli flipped off the Elf, who looked offended. Delicate little creature.

The Elven lord, who had been unusually welcoming to the dwarves in his lands, then smiled and rose from his seat. ‘So it shall be, this will be the Fellowship of the Ring.’

It was a weird little group, yet Elrond of Rivendell seemed to be please of what he put together. To be fair, he himself was a weird story; a product of Elven blood mixed with that of a human; he was half-Elven. Gimli hadn’t even known such a thing existed, that the high-and-mighty Elves would marry and even reproduce outside of their own race.

Gimli felt her father’s eyes burning in her back. She shouldn’t have said what she did. She wouldn’t hear the end of it once this council ended.

\---

‘Absolutely not!’

‘Oh, adâd _please_! This is so unfair.’ The redhead spat back. ‘You _promised_.’

It was after nightfall and Gimli and her companions were seated in a guest-house the lord had prepared from them. A small fire was burning, and against popular belief, the Elves here did actually give them food. Real food, with meat in it. Mirkwood was supposedly different, from what she’d heard of those who went on the quest to reclaim Erebor. What a strange chain of events; it turned out that that quest was when the Ring was found by none other than the Halfling that went with them. Now finally, after 60 years of waiting, Gimli would have her own quest. Although this was probably not the quest her father had had in mind when he had made that promise to her all those years ago.

‘You are NOT going and that is it! I cannot, with my right mind, send my wee little girl to an early tomb! What kind of father do you think I am?’

‘Right then, would you have let me go if I was born a lad?’ Her amber eyes narrowed.

Glóin remained silent. It was all the confirmation his daughter needed.

‘As I thought. It's because I'm a woman, is it not?’

‘You know our cultural rules, lass. I have already stretched everyone's good will far enough by allowing you to come to this elf-infested place.’ The elder man said. ‘Dwarven ladies should stay underground unless absolutely necessary. There are so few of them already. Not a single lass has been born into our family since your birth!’

‘I thought you were different. That you wouldn’t break a promise you made to your kin.’ The redhead sighed. ‘Let me put it this way; who else is going to represent us on this quest? You really trust that little pointy-eared devil to go without any supervision? What if she shoots everyone and takes that ring straight to that Forest king? Is that what you want?’ Gimli finished. She glared at her father with her fiery eyes.

‘That Elf is so thin anyone could snap him in half, I hardly see him as a threat.’

‘She.’ Gimli corrected. ‘That's a lass, I heard the Lord address her as such.’

‘Oh really now? I could hardly tell with those identical fair faces and those flat Elven-chests. There's no curve to be found on that one. Also, don’t think I will be lying awake at night about misgendering an Elf.’ After a short pause he added; ‘I thought only male-Elves had straight hair, though.’

‘Aye, aye. I was just trying to make a point. Her father, or whatever parents she has, let her go.’

‘She is immortal,’ Glóin said. ‘Elves don’t have to worry about an early grave.’

‘Pretty sure that if someone were to split their pretty heads open they would go _straight_ to the halls of the death.’

‘None of that matters. You are a Dwarven lady, a Lady of royal blood, no less! You will return home alongside me at dawn. We will send a Dwarf to replace you on this quest. We cannot have you killed and it would be a scandal if those men were to abuse you for your femininity.’

‘Adâd, please do not say things like that. I can put an axe in their brains before they know it’s coming!’

Their conversation was interrupted by an Elf, a kid of the Lord, Gimli assumed. ‘Gentlemen, would you want to come down to the hall? There will be a fire and food, too.’ He said.

Out of the blue a second, identical Elf showed up. ‘You should come, especially you, young sir.’ He pointed at Gimli. ‘Our parties are really the best. And your fellowship-buddies will be there as well.’

‘We will attend your feast, now leave us so we can prepare.’ Glóin said as he waved the Elves away.

‘Sure, sure. If someone asks, just say Elladan and Elrohir invited you. We’re fine with men and dwarves and all, but some Elves here are old and don’t like to let go of old traditions.’ Elladan (or Elrohir) said. Gimli would never be able to tell those two apart, they resembled one another even more than they resembled their father. Twins were unheard of in Dwarven society. Maybe once or twice in the century twins would be born. This was the first time Gimli saw such a set of siblings.

\---

They were making their way down to the feast. Weird Elven-culture; hosting a party the night before the supposed quest to decide the fate of all the free folks. Gimli was lost in thought; she had to convince her father to let her go. She didn’t know why, but she could feel it in her gut. This quest would shape her future.

Suddenly Gimli had a brilliant idea, the twins had given it to her. She turned to her father and spoke. ‘They don't even need to know I'm not a lad. For all we know they can’t even spot the difference between males and females of our folk. I will not stand out, they shall not know unless anyone tells them otherwise.’

‘Now that you mention it, that Elf from the council, she was there 60 years ago. Mistook Fili for a lady because of his blond hair. Then locked us all up in that Elvenking’s basement. So it is fair to say that they don’t know indeed.’

‘She’s so much younger-looking than I had imagined from what you told me. I thought she'd be more intimidating and less... frail. Such a tiny little thing it is, can’t believe she managed to imprison our best warriors.’

‘Aye, this Elf is tiny, but you cannot tell an Elf's age or experience with arms by simply looking at their faces, for all I know she's older than the moon.’

‘You are right. I can't for the love of me imagine what an Elf-child would look like.’ Gimli said. ‘I have never seen one, not even in books.’

‘I do not recall any having been born in my lifetime, or that of my father, even. Even that Elvenking is childless, from what I have seen while locked up in his ugly basement. That pointy-eared wood-folk reproduces even slower than ours does.’

‘Legolas is the last-born Elfling. Though from what I've heard she's already around 1400 years old.’ Someone interrupted. ‘That none have been born since she did is because their time in Middle-earth is ending. One by one the Elves are leaving, sailing to their sacred lands, never to return.’

The voice came from a man that they'd already seen at the council. Apparently this lad was the rightful king of men. If this was truly so, then Gimli decided she pitied men. This man was even filthier than a dwarf after a full day in the mines. When did he last wash his hair?

‘Really? Hah! Finally some good news, do you hear that, Gimli? They're going away!’ Glóin laughed.

Gimli didn't know how to reply. She agreed with her father because that is what she had learned from early childhood. Elves were bad news; stay away. But all those few that she had met had been pretty decent. Not really... nice, but friendly enough to trade with. However, she did praise herself with the fact that she was more polite than her father was and decided not to speak of Elves too badly in their own home and decided to flip the subject and turn to the man in their midst.

‘So, laddie, why do you, obviously not an Elf, know so much about Elves?’ She asked the tall man in front of her. Passive-aggressively placing her hands on her hips.

‘I was raised here for about 18 years. And the Lord's daughter is my beloved.’

‘You shacked up with an Elf? Impressive.’ Gimli said sarcastically. ‘So did my cousin and he died barely a week later.’

‘I have heard of that story.’ The man admitted. ‘Arwen has told me about the tragedy that has taken place. Apparently Tauriel, as is that Elf’s name, is still grieving his death. She’s become a friend to Arwen during the last centuries’

‘Never knew they had feelings.’ Glóin muttered.

The man ignored the elder dwarf and turned himself to Gimli. ‘You are going on the quest with us, master Dwarf?’

‘Yes; in fact I will. Someone’s got to keep an eye on the Elf, after all.’ She replied. She shot her father a smirk, to which he replied with the angriest face she had ever seen, but he did not disagree.

‘That is good to hear, your people are mighty in the arts of fighting. It will do us good to have a warrior as yourself with us. We are leaving tomorrow at dawn.’ The man said. ‘That should give you enough time to fix that axe you carry. Truly impressive how you seemed to be so unaffected by the Ring’s power.’

 _“That’s because I am not a man like all of you, women are generally better at resisting greed and power. If Dís had led the quest to Erebor they wouldn’t have had the whole debacle around that Arkenstone.”_ Gimli thought, though she did not say it out loud. ‘Hah, well I wasn’t going to be outperformed by those pointy-ears.’

‘Of course.’ The man said. ‘My name is Aragorn, son of Arathorn. What is yours, I have failed to catch it during the commotion of the council.’

She thought about it for a second; this man didn’t seem to be able to tell her apart from a male-dwarf. This would work out just fine, maybe the wizard would know, but he wouldn’t tell anyone about it. Gimli was sure of that. Her father couldn’t stop her now.

‘Gimli, son of Glóin, at your service.’


	2. Distaste

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! This is just a chapter in which nothing really happens. Juts me fleshing out characters and such.

Aragorn had been awfully optimistic when he said that they’d leave at sunrise the following they. He was off. By two months.

The Fellowship had spent two months in Rivendell prior to finally setting out to Mordor. They had planned everything and were well-supplied with weapons and food. Gimli had bid her father farewell and had sworn to him that she would keep her secret. She had also received one of her father’s marriage beads; it was so that Gimli would return it to him once she returned home. And she had to. A promise was not easily broken, but to not return that bead to her father would be an unspeakable act. A Dwarf were to be buried with all beads of marriage intact, for otherwise it was said that the souls of the beloved would not be able to locate one another in the Halls.

It was common practice of parents to give one to their children as they rode out for battle, although Gimli suspected that she was one of the very few Dwarrowdam to receive such a token. She had thought this practice to be silly when she was younger, but now she understood; a solid reminder of home, of family, always to be close.

She was fidgeting with the bead that was braided into her hair as she walked with her companions. The Elf, (Legolas, apparently) was nearly dancing as she travelled with light feet. She sang a son in a language long-forgotten to her kind. For all that it was worth; Gimli supposed that this Elf could sing rather well. The syllables flowed from the blonde’s tongue like liquid and echoed between the trees of the sheltering forest. She did not know what the Elf sang of, but the cheerful sounds made the time pass more swiftly and seemed to put everyone in an optimistic mood.

Legolas sometimes paused and stared in the distance, or whispered something to a small animal they passed, but resumed her singing right afterward. Aragorn seemed to be very fond of the lass, for he would sometimes join in her singing.

Gimli had gotten to know her fellow travelers quite well at this point, not so much the Elf, though. They had hardly ever spoken and all that was been said were back and forth arguments and disagreements. Still, befriending seven out of eight companions didn’t seem like a bad score at all.

At least _that_ was something the Elf had not done, for she lacked all ability to properly converse with people. Aside from Aragorn and Gandalf, Gimli wasn’t sure she had even seen Legolas talk to anyone in the fellowship. At night when all gathered around a fire, the fool creature would sit upon the perch of a tree and sing softly as she worked on something unbeknownst to Gimli.

As annoying as the fair-faced creature may be, she was not Gimli’s main concern. Boromir, the second man, had shown a great desire for the Ring that Frodo carried around his neck. Gimli could see the man eyeing it, glaring at it. She knew that the Halfling was no match for a warrior of Gondor, so whenever the man eyed the Ring, her had tightened around the grip of her axe, ready to split that head right open, friend or foe.

‘Behold, friends! I sense a danger nearing.’ Legolas suddenly spoke. She stared in the distance at something that no other could see. ‘I judge it is best to seek shelter beneath the shade of the forest once more, we should not cross these plains today and rest in safety.’

A few seconds later she informed that it was a group of Orcs; the Elf said that they were sixty men strong. A battle Gimli knew they could win, but this journey would be long and avoiding unnecessary battles was for the best.

‘I trust your word, Legolas. Everyone, we shall retreat to the forest for tonight.’ Aragorn announced. He had become the honorary leader of the quest, though it had not been spoken out loud. As such, everyone obeyed his command and turned around to make way into the forest.

‘Whatever that pointy-eared devil says.’ Gimli muttered in her own language. Maybe Gandalf understood, but she cared not. Legolas made the right call, but Gimli didn’t like her any better still; she could have come to the same decision herself, no problem. Against popular belief the vision of Dwarves was not bad at all. It was far superior to that of men and in dark places, even Elves fell short. All difference was that Dwarven eyes were sensitive to sunlight, causing their vision to worsen slightly during the day. Also, Elves somehow perceived the earth to be flat and as such could see many yards further.

 _“Flat._ Flat _! Can you even imagine?”_ Gimli thought as the group made their way back beneath the trees.

‘I think it would be wise not to start a fire given the situation.’ Sam said.

‘Yes; you would be right. It will be a long, cold night, but it’s for the best.’

The sun had started to set behind the mountains in the distance, due to the thickness of the forest it had grown almost completely dark at this point. The Halflings were huddled together under a big pile of blankets, they weren’t quite asleep though.

‘Say, Aragorn, sir?’ Merry asked.

‘What is it, young Hobbit?’

‘I was wondering, that maiden in Rivendell, are you married?’

‘Nay, that we are not. We wish to marry after this battle has been fought, however I hope she will have joined her kin in the West by then. Also, a wedding for Elves is quite different from what you or I perceive to be a wedding.’

‘Really, how so?’ Frodo said. It was known that Elves and their way of life greatly intrigued him.

‘Ah, my friend, that is something I cannot answer. You should ask Legolas, for she undoubtedly has the answers that you are looking for.’ Aragorn replied. Even in the dark, Gimli could clearly see the grin on his face and the annoyance and redness that had crept upon the face of their fair companion. Gimli concluded that Aragorn knew the answer himself perfectly well, but that he wished to get the Elf to speak to others than only himself.

‘Lady Legolas?’ The Halfling asked with a hopeful expression on his face.

‘I do not see why Aragorn must not be able to tell this tale to you.’ The Elf stammered. She was looking everywhere but at Frodo.

‘Oh, come now, fool Elf. Just tell ‘em already.’ Gimli said. She quite enjoyed seeing the otherwise unfazed Elf so embarrassed.

‘Very well then, but I beg you shall not judge.’

‘Aye, aye lassie. I shall not judge your culture should you not judge mine, or that of the Halflings and men.’

‘In the culture of Halflings, men and Dwarves alike, wedding ceremonies are held with family and dear friends present. In Elven-culture, a feast is held to celebrate the union of souls, however a ceremony of marriage is not attended by any but the couple, for it would not be appropriate to have guests at such an occasion.’ The Elf spoke. The tips of her long ears had turned scarlet.

‘Oh. _Oh._ ’ Frodo said. His face had grown red. ‘I am sorry I asked such a thing.’

‘What does that mean?’ Pippin asked.

 _“The innocent thing.”_ Gimli thought.

‘It means, my lad, that the Eldar marry through a ritual that we know as consummation of love and the lust that comes with it.’ Gandalf said. He seemed quite amused. ‘If we went by that, well, I'd say you'd have quite the number of wives by now.’

‘That’s right! I got a harem.’ The Halfling laughed.

‘Oh, come now Pip, yours is nothing compared to mine.’ Merry said.

‘Oh is that so? I have 7!’

‘Well, I have _at least_ 10.’

‘Lies, I tell you, lies!’

‘So who would have thought? The king of men is still untouched at the age of 87.’ Boromir chuckled.

‘Oh would you shut up.’ Aragorn said. ‘I was raised in Rivendell, remember?’

‘So are you married, Lady Legolas?’ Sam asked politely.

‘To ask such a thing- Nay, I am not. I have not fallen in love just yet.’ She replied, clearly uncomfortable with the situation.

Gimli found herself enjoying this greatly. Elves were known to be quite unreserved when talking about intercourse was normal among their culture (her father was still traumatized by all the flawless, hairless Elven skin he had witnessed in paintings that could only be deemed as unsavory and inappropriate for children to witness) yet Legolas seemed to be quite unhappy talking about it.

‘Careful, she's of royalty, young Hobbits. Her father would not quite approve of your interest in her state of marriage.’ Aragorn chuckled. ‘He’s quite protective of his little girl, you see.’

‘You are of royalty!?’ Merry and Pippin exclaimed in unison. Frodo and Sam went starry-eyed. They had already been ecstatic about the fact that an Elf was joining them, but a _royal_ Elf? Amazing.

‘Yes, she is the Princess of Mirkwood, heir to Thranduil's throne. Did you not know?’ Gandalf clarified.

‘That prick is your father?’ Gimli couldn't help herself. Her distaste for the Elvenking went deep. He had imprisoned her father and indirectly aided in the death of three close kin. The words were out before she had realized their impact.

‘My father has not treated yours with kindness; however I can assure you that he is a good man! So mind your words, Master Dwarf.’ Her pale green eyes narrowed as she spoke.

‘He cared for nothing but those white gems. He allowed my kin to be slain!’

‘They belonged to my mother. All memory that remained of her was stored in those! Your kin unrightfully kept them long after the debt was repaid! It was their own fault!’

‘Legolas, Gimli! Please do not fight.’ Aragon said. ‘We cannot let this fellowship break over things that have happened in the past.’

‘This might have occurred decades ago, but the wounds of dead kin will not heal so swiftly.’ Gimli hissed under her breath.

‘I aided their escape from my father's dungeons! _I_ was willing to help them. You have no reason to despise me, for I cannot choose who my parents are! And as such you shall have no reason to despise my father! I will not allow your dirtying his name in my presence.’

This was the first time Gimli saw what many called the monstrous side of the Elves. Where they were bright as sunlight and fair as calm waters, they could be mysterious like the moon and treacherous like an ocean on a stormy night. Legolas was far from calm now. Her aura threatening, her eyes almost glowing.

‘I do not wish to hear it. Shut your mouth before I snap you in half, _she-Elf_.’ Gimli replied with venom in her voice.

‘You'd be dead before you could reach me, _Dwarf_.’ Legolas hissed back. ‘Now if you'll excuse me, I must go hunt.’

Shortly after, the Elf disappeared between the trees, stomping her feet.

‘Gimli, can you not try to get along with her?’ Aragorn pleaded, tiredly.

‘That I cannot do. Dwarves and Elves, they do not get along. Never did. We shall be no different.’

‘There was a time that they got along well, although not many are alive to remember it.’ Gandalf said. ‘Moria was made by Dwarves with the help of Elves back when things were different.’

‘Well, I never heard it was the fault of my kind that the friendship failed.’ Gimli replied.

‘I have heard tales of both,’ The Wizard said. ‘However it matters not, all that does is that there is a time where things went wrong. Why not do the right thing now?’

‘I don't know, Legolas puzzles me, she’s strange. I cannot see us getting along, especially not with our lineages.’ Gimli said. ‘For the sake of this mission, I wish I could, but I fail to understand her.’

‘Her weirdness is something that has prevented her from making many friends during her life. As strange as she may seem to you is just as strange as she seems to other Elves. Legolas is young, very young. Only 286 years has she lived. She has no kin her own age and grew up sheltered. No siblings, no mother.’

‘She’s _that_ young?’Aragorn said. ‘I assumed she was at least 1000.’

‘The Elves of Mirkwood prefer to keep her age a secret. She’s precious to them, you see.’ Gandalf said. ‘She has rarely ventured outside her father’s kingdom. She grew up in a forest in which everyone was at least thrice her age, protective they were, her kin.’

‘Her life sounds like a drag.’ Pippin said.

‘Nay, that it is not. She has lived her life in joy. Careless she lived, her father doted on her and her mother loved her more than life itself. She gave her life so that Legolas could live. Legolas was less than 10 years old when she passed in battle. As ever painful as it was, she has little recollection and thus no miss. It was only when the Greenwood turned into Mirkwood that her father became ill with bitterness and hate, before that she had a very happy life.’ The wizard explained.

‘Ach, it matters not to me. She could have the saddest of stories for all I care, I shall not like her any better.’ Gimli said. She was stubborn as all her family were. ‘All that matters if that we aid one another as long as the Ring is among us, after that I hope to never see her again.’ She rolled herself in a blanket and willed herself to sleep.

The rest of the night was spent in a heavy silence. Legolas did not come back until the sun had long since risen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Please leave some comments!!!


	3. Caradhras

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :)  
> This chapter features concept-art for Leg and Gim at the end

_“January 12 th; today we travel the mighty mountain _Barazinbar _, which in the language of the pointy-ears is called ‘_ Caradhras _’. Travelling through the Redhorn-pass below its’ slopes had been too dangerous, so it had been decide that we should go over the mountain instead. But knowing the Misty Mountains, this will be no easy journey._ Barazinbar _is known to be a place that favours neither Elf nor Dwarf. I insisted we’d pass through_ Khazad-dûm _(Moria, to all others), where my kin resides, instead, however this idea was declined. I will now stop writing, for lunch is over and we must resume our travel, should we wish to reach the summit before dusk.’_

Gimli closed her journal and sighed. Writing everyday had been harder than she’d expected, but she had promised her father that she would. If she were to pass, this journal would somehow find its’ way back to him and he’d know how his daughter lived her last days. She looked towards the east, a dark sky came drifting from there. Now, as a Dwarrowdam that had spent almost all her life underground, Gimli was not the wisest in the ways of weather.

‘Legolas, ‘d you reckon that the colour of the sky brings forth a storm from the east?’ She asked as she absently played with one of the beads in her beard.

‘You have seen well, Master Dwarf. Although I fear that this might be a blizzard, filled with snow and ice.’ The Elf replied. ‘It could cause hardship. Can you feel the wind picking up?’

Gimli could, but only barely. Elves were so thin, naturally they would feel any bit of wind instantly. It was a miracle the Elf had not yet blown away. ‘Of course I can, Elfling.’

‘We shall start our climb, here our way is void of snow, but it will not last for long. Dress suitably.’ Aragorn said. He reached into his pack and took a leather sheet lined with reindeer-skin to wear as a cloak.

Gimli paid it no mind, for Dwarves were sturdy creatures and always dressed for the harshest of conditions. Extreme heat and extreme cold hardly bothered them. She was, however slightly bothered by the fact that the Halflings chose to remain barefoot.

\---

The snow had been worse that any of them had imagined. It came up to Aragorn’s waist and that man was tall. Gimli had to fight her way through the frozen substance, she did so with a lot of force, in the hope that she might clear out some form of a path for the Halflings. It was barren. Gimli cursed herself for choosing to have a shorter beard, while it was convenient in the forgery (long beards catch fire over pits of molten iron); a long beard would have given her some good warmth here on the snowy peaks.

To make matters worse, Legolas was completely unaffected. She walked on top of the snow, singing a song, unbothered by the freezing cold, barely even leaving a footprint.

“Do you want me to carry you, Master Dwarf?” She had asked. That little piss-taking forest spawn. Gimli had wanted to grab the Elf’s ankles and drop her face-first into the snow. Dwarves are not meant to be carried, fool creature.

‘Why don’t you make yourself useful and carry some Halflings instead, huh? They definitely look like they could use your “help”, lassie.’ Gimli grumbled back.

‘My fingers are turning blue, is that normal?’ One of the Halflings asked.

‘No!’ Boromir near-shouted. ‘Let me see that!’

‘Boromir, I beg you be more quiet, or else you could bring the mountain down upon our heads.’ Legolas replied.

‘An avalanche of snow sounds like an appalling way to find death.’ Aragorn agreed. ‘Be also mindful as to where you place your feet, loose rocks may be hiding underneath the snow.’

Merry looked over the edge. ‘That would be quite a big fall.’ He concluded, his blue fingers already forgotten.

‘I have not once in my life seen this much snow, and trust me; I have lived quite the long life.’ Gandalf said. He cleared his hat of snow for which would be the fourth time that hour.

‘It rarely ever snowed in our home, too.’ The Ringbearer said. ‘The shire is so calm, the weather is the same. Unless, of course, Gandalf pays a visit to disturb our peace.’

‘Unlike popular belief,’ Gimli could feel the Elf’s eyes burning in her back. ‘My father’s kingdom is mainly built in caverns, so I have seldom seen snow there. I only ever saw it when I rode out to fight the spiders that the Necromancer had brought into my home.’ Legolas said.

‘I used to play in the snow back when I was a child. Rivendell did not have as much snow as these mountains do, but it had a fair amount still. The sons of Elrond enjoyed throwing heaps of snow upon my head when I was just a child.’ Aragorn recalled fondly.

‘I have seen snow only once before.’ Gimli contributed. ‘It was when I migrated from my home by the Blue Mountains to Erebor after it was retaken. I hated it as much back then as I hate it now.’

‘I have to say that I have always been quite fond of snow myself.’ Boromir said. ‘It gives a certain peace.’

‘That’s nice and all, lad, but this snow is all but peaceful. This mountain doesn’t like travellers very much and the paths are only getting smaller and smaller the further we go up.’ Gimli said.

‘How much further is it?’ Pippin asked.

‘I fear that we will have to take our rest upon this mountain, young Hobbit. We will not be able to make it over the pass before daylight deserts us.’ The ranger spoke.

‘We will _freeze_ to death, Aragorn.’ Boromir protested. ‘Especially the little ones.’

‘There must be caves and shelters in these walls.’

‘How do you know?’

‘There’s a Dwarven kingdom underneath us, of course there’s gonna be caves!’ Sam said. ‘Right, Master Gimli?’

‘I wouldn’t know, my lad. Dwarves are not really fans of going over mountains, so the high walls are usually avoided when possible. Though with snowfall this heavy you’d think erosion must have done its’ job and created natural shelters.’ She walked over to the wall and placed her ear against the cold stone. She knocked with her axe and listened. ‘These walls are not hollow, I fear. The stone is too strong, that was to be expected to some degree, but there is no dent to be found here. It’s odd. These rocks are metamorphic, meaning that once they lay below the surface of the earth, where the heat caused them to harden and crystallize. Some parts might have even turned into diamond at this point. They must have been surrounded by mineral-rich fluids and immeasurable pressure. I have never seen this in a mountain this high before. I have heard that Moria was carved out of the hardest of stones, but to think that the hardness would reach so high, it’s a miracle.’

‘What does that mean, Merry?’

‘I think it means that these rocks are really, really hard, Pip.’

‘That’s more or less it, yes.’ Aragorn confirmed. ‘It also means that they are nearly unbreakable by anything but brute force. Finding a shelter here will be impossible.’

‘Then we must pick up our pace!’ Legolas said. ‘Gandalf, you are one of five great wizards, could you not conjure us a flame and free our path of snow and ice?’

‘If Elves could just fly you could fly over the mountain and fetch us the sun.’ The wizard grumbled.

‘Very well then! I go fetch the sun.’ The Elf said as she ran off.

‘She’s going to plummet to her death if she keeps running like that.’ Boromir sighed.

\---

Legolas did not return for several hours.

When she _did_ return, her cheeks were red from the wind and her hair had tangled around her ears. Her face sported a radiant smile, she waved when she spotted her companions.

‘Friends, I have found us a path! It shall not be an easy road, but it is free of enemies and sheltered from the wind. Come follow!’

‘Next time you go on one of your little escapades, please inform us as to where you are going! We were starting to worry that you had fallen to your death, miss Elf.’ Gandalf sighed, but he followed the Elf nonetheless.

It was a small road, more like a crack in the stone rather than a path. The walls were close together and if Gimli wasn’t used to live in caves, she would surely have felt as if the walls came upon her.

‘It is a barren road still, but it is not nearly as cold now that the wind does not hit us directly.’ Frodo said. ‘Uhm, what is that?’

‘Oh, pay him no mind, he was all alone, so I dealt with it swiftly. I made sure he could not alert others.’ The Elf said as they passed a snowed-over corpse of what was presumably a goblin, she gracefully hopped over it. ‘Though if I had shown him mercy, he would still have frozen without qualm.’

Their road continued for several hours until they came close to the summit. A blast of lightning shot and hit the mountain, bringing down an avalanche of rock and snow. They were all buried beneath, but managed to get free before suffocation arose.

‘Is everyone alright?’ Aragorn yelled.

‘I am fine, I’ve got Frodo and Sam with me, they’re alright as well.’ Gimli shouted back.

‘I have not suffered injuries.’ Legolas said. ‘Master Boromir has only a scratch upon his face, but it’s no catastrophe.’

‘That was _no_ coincidence!’ Merry shouted. ‘It was timed way too perfect!’

‘It must have been Saruman.’ Sam agreed.

‘No, this was merely the will of the mountain. It does not want us here.’ Gandalf said. ‘It is far more powerful than you think, Hobbits. Nature has a will of its’ own and possesses power to do as it pleases, even the mightiest sorcerer cannot bend her will.’

‘We cannot go further, I fear. Our road as collapsed. We must turn back.’ Aragorn said after he came back from an exploration a hundred meters ahead.

‘That is our signal to leave. So the Redhorn-pass it will be.’ Boromir said. ‘Have your weapons wielded, this will not be easy.’

‘I say we go through the mines. It is much safer there, my kin will certainly welcome us.’

‘I would rather die than dwell underground. I hear Moria is so big it takes several days to travel through.’ Boromir called.

‘Aye, that it is. But there will be food, there will be shelter and someone can surely guide us.’

‘I say the Ringbearer decides.’ Aragorn decided.

‘We will go through the mines, it seems like our safest option.’ Frodo spoke after a few seconds of hesitation.

Gandalf sighed and hung his head. ‘Very well then, we will set course for Moria.’

‘We can take a faster road down.’ Legolas said. She walked to the edge of the rock and leaped.

‘Ho, lassie. Not gonna happen. Are you a dimwit?’ Gimli scowled. She had grabbed the fool creature by the collar and lifted her up, placing her with both feet on the ground. ‘You can’t jump down a mountain like that, you little-’ She felt her heart beating in her throat. She never knew her reflexes were that fast.

‘I would have been fine, Master Dwarf. I know what I am doing; we can simply leap from rock to rock to descend the mountain much faster!’ The princess of the Greenwood said as she frowned and adjusted her tunic.

‘Legolas, we cannot do that.’ Aragorn said. ‘We are not as swift on our feet as your kin and it is icy down there.’

‘I forgot.’

‘Fool Elf.’ Gimli chuckled as she shook her head. ‘Just so you know, you’re in my debt; I just saved your pretty face from an early grave!’

‘I would have been _fine_!’

‘No you would not.’ Aragorn and Gimli said at the same time.

‘Elves, I swear.’ Boromir whispered.

‘Let’s just make our way down now, _please_.’ Sam sighed.

* * *

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!   
> Leave some comments, please!


	4. A path to broken hearts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was gone, but now I am back...
> 
> Just a heads up, lots of references to The Silmarillion this chapter. It might be confusing if you have not read it.

‘It certainly is strange a thing, how the doors of the mightiest Dwarven kingdom looks so Elvish.’ Frodo remarked. His fingers traced the delicate moonlit lines of the door. It was graced by delicately carved trees, seven stars, a Dwarvish symbol and an eight-pointed star. There was a script in Elven-tongue at the top.

‘This door was forged back when there was friendship between Elves and Dwarves still. It was made by Celebrimbor, the maker of the rings of power and grandson of the mightiest Elf to ever have lived, These doors even bear his symbol; the eight-pointed star of the house of Fëanor. His Dwarven companion was named Narvi; they together made this door and many other marvels.’ Gandalf explained.

‘What happened to him then, Fëanor? If he was so powerful, how did he die?’ Boromir asked.

‘He was killed by a demon of the ancient world, just after the dawning of the first age. His soul forever in exile. A tragedy that killed an entire line of Elves but one.’ Legolas said. ‘Though I have heard tell that his second-born still wanders Middle-Earth, always singing a lament of grief and sorrow with the most beautiful of voices.’

‘Yes, that he does. The first age was turbulent and believe it or not, the battles that arose in the past were also caused by jewels, just as the one we are about to fight.’ Gandalf said. ‘I was there, though I bore a different name and mask.’

‘Thanks for the history lessons, but how are we getting this thing open?’ Sam said.

‘I have absolutely no idea.’ Gandalf admitted.

\---

How could it be that she hadn’t known? As soon as the door opened the stench filled her stomach with nausea. This smell was one of death, decay and tragedy. Moria was no longer the great kingdom it had once been, it was but a tomb. Had been, for quite a long time, judging the advanced state decay the bodies were in. Nothing but bone and hair remained, warriors still in their armour, weapons clutched in lifeless hands.

‘This was not how it was supposed to be...’ Gimli said to no one. She felt the urge to scream. These people were not just fellow Dwarrow; they were her kin, her family, her friends, her role models. They were the heroes that would reclaim their land, but instead they had found death. Every single one of those who took part in the quest. After Erebor it had seemed so easy, surely whatever housed in these halls could not be worse than a fire-breathing dragon.

‘This cannot be happening; it must be a cruel jest. Surely I am dreaming my darkest dream.’

She placed her hand against the stone wall to contain her balance and slowly sank down until she was sitting, eyes wide open, mouth agape in a silent scream. Her fingers trembled so that they were no longer able to hold onto the axe, which clattered onto the floor, the sound echoing through the large vacant halls. ‘You knew. Damned wizard, you bloody _knew_! How could you have kept me in the dark of this matter!?’ Gimli growled.

‘I merely did not find the right time to tell you.’ The elder man spoke. ‘I had my reasons for that. Something houses in these mines that I wish to never unveil. My council and I have decided that no one should know of the truth. For it is far too grim.’

‘See if I give a rat’s ass about your council! This is my kin, my legacy!’ There was more she wished to convey, however she could not be bothered as she broke down into sobs, her head buried between her knees.

‘By Ilûvatar...’ Gimli heard the Elf say. ‘Master Dwarf, what is it that happens to you? Will you be alright?’

‘Shut your pretty face, Elf.’

‘Legolas, it is alright. You do not understand mortal death, what Gimli is doing is completely natural. It’s grieving, in the way mortals do. It is often paired with much anger and despair.’ Aragorn said.

‘Grieving? That will last for ages! Master Dwarf shall not be able to accompany us; someone needs to stay with him, lest his heart stop!’ Legolas panicked. ‘Gandalf, what must we do?’

‘Elfling, do not despair. Mortals are far sturdier than the Eldar with their grief. Gimli shall not pass to the Halls of this; a moment of rest will be all that is needed for him to recover. His faith in me shall be regained, too.’

‘So, what is this, Elf? You care about my well-being?’ Gimli said with a forced smirk. She wiped her tears away with her sleeve and pushed herself of the floor. ‘Do not worry, fragile one! Us Dwarves can deal with tragedy. Let us continue, we’ve got a cursed object to rid off.’

‘You are a fellow traveller and you have not betrayed my trust. I care for all that venture this road with me, regardless of their kind.’ Legolas simply said. ‘Even for those I do not like.’

‘Are you sure, Master Dwarf? Do you not wish to rest for a moment longer?’ Boromir asked.

‘I appreciate your concern, lad. But I assure you that I am fine. When a Dwarf loses someone, working is the best way to deal with the grief. I shall do just that.’

‘Your strength amazes me, Master Gimli.’ Sam said. ‘I could have never.’

‘Thank you, laddie. Yet I believe that you could.’ Gimli spoke fondly, slapping the Hobbit on the back. ‘You’re not giving yourself enough credit here. You’re a strong one.’

‘Yet, I am sorry for your loss.’

‘So am I, Samwise. So am I.’ The Dwarf sighed.

\---

‘These are Orc arrows!’ Legolas shouted. She had pulled a black-feathered arrow out of one of the corpses and inspected in thoroughly ‘I believe we are not alone.’ Her otherwise fair face shifted into a grimace. ‘It is un-poisoned. That means they must have been with many.’

‘You mean they could still be here?’ Pippin said, his voice was high-pitched.

‘Yes and they are near, nightfall approaches they shall soon wake from their slumber. Keep one hand on your weapon at all times and do not be distracted.’

‘This is not good.’ Aragorn muttered. ‘This is not good at all.’

‘How can we possibly win a fight in the dark?’ Boromir asked.

‘There should be rooms lit with stones charged by the moon in the age Dwarves and Elves got along still. We must locate those places in case a battle emerges. The eyes of Orcs work best in the darkness.’ Gandalf spoke slowly.

‘They colonized this place?’ Boromir asked.

‘Most likely so. Vacant caves are among the favourite places of Orcs to dwell.’

‘Then we should not linger!’ Legolas said. ‘Let us go back into the light of day, under the sky!’

‘She’s right, mister Frodo what do you say?’ Sam turned to the bearer of the ring for confirmation.

‘We should hurry indeed. Gandalf, you can lead us the way, right?’

‘I wish I could, lad... but I seem to have lost all memory of this place.’

‘ _Ah, Dôl gîn lost, Mithrandir!_ _Man cerig!? Mi van me?_ ’ Legolas exclaimed. The Elf was clearly frustrated with being stuck in a cave. By now it had become apparent to Gimli that the Elf reverted back to her native tongue whenever she got high into her emotions. Legolas’s Westron was probably the worst out of the Fellowship anyway.

‘We are somewhere in Moria, Legolas.’ Gandalf replied. ‘And I am thinking.’

‘You’ve got to be kidding.’ Gimli groaned. ‘Great wizard my arse!’

Aragorn sighed heavily and slumped down on a rock; he lit a pipe and began to smoke. The hobbits soon joined him. The Elf paced around nervously, treading strands of hair around her fingers, one hand tightly wrapped around her bow, eyes searching for something yet unseen.

‘It came back to me! I know where we should go. Follow me.’ Gandalf said after a while.

A relatively lit room appeared in front of them. In midst of that room, a tomb was laid. It had inscriptions on it and it didn’t take Gimli long to realise what they meant. Balin was buried there.

‘Fuck.’ She muttered. ‘That’s my cousin.’ She sunk down unto one knee and bowed her head, to pay her relative her final respects. ‘This was not how I imagined us meeting, cousin. I am sure that you fought bravely, though and that you died a warrior, as you have always been.’

‘Master Dwarf, may I say some words as well? I have known him, although for a brief time, when the quest for Erebor took place.’

‘Yea, you may.’

‘Thank you.’ The Elf said. ‘I have not known you long, Master, but from all that I have heard of you I take it that you were a fine and noble man. It pains me to see you so, for it should not have been this way. I wish to send respects of my own and of my kin. May you rest in peace and silence, lest you awaken to walk the lands once more at the end of days, shall you be well-rested.’

‘I have lost a great friend in your demise, Balin. You shall forever be remembered.’ Gandalf nodded.

‘You were a man my uncle spoke of fondly; therefore in his name I bid you a swift journey to the other side. May you reside forever by your kin.’ Frodo solemnly spoke.

Then there was silence for a while. All nine hung down their heads in respect for the fallen of Moria, whose corpses surrounded them.

The clanking of arrows crashing into stone stopped the brief moment of grief.

‘I don’t wish to be rude, however I feel like I need to inform you that it seems like they have a cave-troll here.’ Boromir said.

‘Block those doors!’ Aragorn commanded.

‘Ai! I shall pass these spears to you, though I fear not long will they hold!’ Legolas said.

It must have taken bare minutes before the door was breeched and Orcs came rushing in. Armed to their teeth. Legolas swiftly shot the first few, but her arrows were not plentiful to lay them all to rest and the others jumped into action.

‘There is one Dwarf in Moria that is still standing! And I shall not find my tomb just yet!’ She hissed as she rushed forward and made a cleft in the chest of one of the Orcs. He fell to the ground, but immediately a second and third one showed up. With her left hand Gimli wielded the heavy axe of her father; with her right she threw a smaller axe into the face of the tallest Orc, bringing them both down.

Aragorn was ever swift with his sword, with footwork to make any man jealous he swiftly fought of his enemies. Boromir used both shield and sword in offense. Even Gandalf turned out to be quite the fighter. The Elf had switched her bow for dual knives, her feet seemed to be magnetic to the stone as she ran up the walls and jumped down in the midst of the masses and killed many. The hobbits stood their ground well, despite having a sword; Sam seemed to favour his frying pan to knock down the foul-smelling creatures.

Then it came to pass that the troll entered. It was large and fat. Legolas’s arrows barely had any effect on it, getting stuck in the thick layers of fatty tissue, hardly causing any harm. Soon it set its’ eyes on the Ringbearer and chased him. Aragorn fought, but was knocked down by such force that Gimli was amazed at the fact that his back had not snapped like a twig. Frodo was pierced with a hayfork and fell down. Merry and Pippin jumped on the beast and started stabbing it furiously as Aragorn and Sam rushed to Frodo’s side. Gimli and Boromir fought of the Orcs while Gandalf guarded the entrance. Legolas waited and waited until the troll lifted its’ ugly head and she shot it through the chin, bringing it down.

Its’ fall echoed through the mines.

Frodo turned out to be unharmed and on they went with their journey. In amazement all stared at the pillars of the largest Dwarven city to have ever been built. Only Thingol’s halls had been a greater work made by the Dwarrow.

Goblins came crawling down the walls like spiders. Thousands of them, they were outnumbered. But a blessing came which caused all Goblins to flee as fast as they had come. The walkers were all relieved, but Gandalf despaired.

‘Gandalf, what is the light that chased them. It is not the sun, I fear.’ The Elf spoke.

‘Nay, Legolas, ‘tis a Balrog. A demon of the ancient world, servant of Morgoth. Swords will not help us here, flee is all we can do. Not even the great Noldorin kings Fëanor nor Fingon the Valiant could slay such a creature and mighty fighters they were. And the ones that _have_ slain a Balrog did not escape with their lives.’ Gandalf said

‘A Balrog!? That is ill news indeed.’ Legolas swallowed. ‘My friends, run as fast as your legs can carry you or your demise you shall meet in shadow and flames.’

‘We must go to the bride of Khazad-dûm! It is not far.’ Gandalf said. As he spoke the light grew brighter and the smell of sulphur drowned away the smell of decay.

They ran until a collapsed road prevented them from going further. Legolas jumped and urged the others to do so as well, but Orcs came once more. And even more of the road collapsed. Aragorn and Boromir threw the hobbits over the gap. Aragorn then attempted to pick up Gimli.

‘No one tosses a Dwarf.’ She proclaimed and she took the jump, but the edge was slippery and she saw it all flash before her eyes. The swift reactions of Legolas however saved her life. ‘Oi, not the beard!’ Gimli yelped in pain and embarrassment.

‘Now the tally is even once more, Master Dwarf.’ The Elf said with a smirk.

Somehow, it made something inside Gimli’s stomach turn itself into a knot. ‘Whatever, I could have saved myself though.’

When they finally reached the bridge they could look upon the monster from the deep. It was indeed made out of shadow and flame, winged and horned, a mouth that could spit blue flames.

‘You shall not pass!’ Gandalf cried as he shielded his companions. The Balrog then was slain and fell.

Yet it took Gandalf with it, into the deepest pits of Moria, leaving the Fellowship with hollow hearts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Please leave some comments and kudo's if you can!

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Please leave me a comment and/or some help with Tolkien lore if if fuck it up lol


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